We had a display of the natural world at work a week or two ago. I heard a lot of noisy miners (native birds) out in the back yard, and they were obviously upset about something. Then I heard what sounded like a muffled growl, so I went outside to see what was happening.

There, I saw a kookaburra hunched up against the garden terrace wall. It had something large in its beak, and the little miners were harassing it fiercely.

Kooka with its prey, before flying into the trees.

I thought the kooka had a mouse and called for MOTH (the Man of the House) to bring his camera. It took a few minutes for him to find it, and I thought we’d lose our chance to catch the bird and its prey in pictures.

MOTH came out just as Kooka escaped the miners and flew up into the ironbark tree near the back door. However, with the bright light, and lots of branches in the way, it was hard to focus on the bird from where he was.

A single noisy miner keeps up the harassment, to no avail.

I was up the slope on the lawn by then, and I could see it clearly. MOTH brought me the camera and I took several shots of it from there. What Kooka had in its beak was a dead miner bird.

This kookaburra would like part of the spoils.

Three other kookas also hung around, as well as a magpie and a couple of currawongs. They were all probably hoping Kooka would drop its prey and they’d be able to snatch it away.

Another kooka looks on with interest

However, the miners let up their mass attack, and Kooka flew up into the big bush mahogany tree. There, it proceeded to bash the miner bird’s body against the branch so it would be easier to devour.

I managed to get photos of all four of the kookaburras, but none of the currawongs, which kept their distance.

It has been raining here for two days as the remnants of Cyclone Oswald reach to the southern areas of eastern Australia. It will get worse, with stronger winds added to the rain. We will be fine where we are, but others won’t be as lucky.

There are thousands of people in Queensland and in northern NSW who are having it very tough at present. Many have been flooded from their homes and businesses. There have been deaths usually as people try to cross through swollen creeks and flooded causeways. (Some folk never learn).

States of emergency have been declared in some areas, and all emergency services are flat out helping those who are in trouble. Then they get some idiot like the one here.

As the rain falls and the wind blows, we look out onto our front verandah and see that other creatures are affected by the weather too. Our verandah always becomes a refuge for birds trying to get out of the rain, especially rainbow lorikeets.

We also have the ubiquitous noisy miners which, for once don’t gang up against the other birds. They all look rather forlorn at times like this

Today, I also managed to photograph a couple of the magpies that decided to take shelter there too. They don’t often come this high (the verandah is at second-storey level on our sloping block). They spend most of their time hunting for bugs and other creatures in their territory, which includes the lawns of other houses within an area of about a hundred metres radius of us.

I hope that the people affected by the floods are able to find shelter – just as these birds have done.

It is 9.30am, and I am sitting overlooking the front yard with my coffee, trying to do some work on my latest novel.

Crows are cawing in the distance, somewhere near the lake, and a magpie carols happily nearby. The drone of a chainsaw over the ridge competes with the their calls. I hope no more trees are being massacred over there.

In the bottlebrush tree that brushes against the verandah rail next to me, several Rainbow Lorikeets chitter and squawk as they milk nectar from a few late blossoms. A Noisy Miner on a banksia blossom

Noisy Miners dive-bomb any other bird they see, and the threatening clack of their sharp beaks is clearly audible over the background noise.

A flock of corellas flies over our little vale, probably off to find nuts or fruit or seeds on trees further inland.

I was pleased to see this morning that the two young Tawny Frogmouth owls are still roosting in the rough-barked tree by our back door. They seem to know they are safe there.

The other day, as we ate lunch on the verandah, a pair of Rainbow Lorikeets came to see if there was seed in the feeder that hangs under the eaves. There was none, so they asked for some, politely at first, bobbing their heads and bodies at us from the rail a couple of feet away. We told them we would get some after we’d eaten. That is when they became demanding, screeching at us impatiently.

As soon as my husband approached the seed can that we keep on the verandah – after we had finished eating, of course – they could hardly contain their excitement. They hovered next to the feeder as the seed went in, and then chittered their thanks as they tucked into their own lunch.